


This is What You Are (To Me)

by logical_crysis



Series: The Storybook [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depressed Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Intrusive Thoughts, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Keith cares SO MUCH, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, Loosely based off of Brave Enough by Lindsey Stirling, M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), kosmo is a good boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logical_crysis/pseuds/logical_crysis
Summary: Lance is having a rough time digging himself out of the hole he buried himself in. Keith is there to help. Even though he had already spent the night before with him, even though he didn't have to stay at Lance's house by himself until Lance got home, even though he wasn't obligated by any means to help Lance, Keith is there.He always is.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: The Storybook [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823644
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	This is What You Are (To Me)

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the end of chapter 15 of my chat fic, Okay Benches It's Storytime, but can be read as a stand-alone so I'm also posting it separately.

**_OrionNebula_ is with _Supernova_**

_(4:02 PM)_

When Lance stepped through his front door, he was hit with the fantastic smell of toasting bread and melting cheese. He took a strong inhale as he set his keys in the bowl on the table next to the door, and a smile curled onto his face when he heard the _click click click_ of Kosmo’s nails on the hardwood floors. “Hi buddy! Hi!” He crouched down and opened his arms and Kosmo bounded right into him, tail wagging and snorting and eager to give Lance as many wet kisses as he could before Lance laughed and pushed him back. “Did you miss me? Did you? You’re such a good boy,” Lance cooed at him, “Such a good boy, Kosmo!”

Lance made sure to give him a good scratch behind his ears and long strokes down the fur of his back and then a loud kiss on his forehead before he stood. Kosmo, tongue lolled out to the side, turned and headed back the way he came from the kitchen, and Lance followed.

Keith was standing at Lance’s stove, flipping a grilled cheese in a skillet. He shot Lance a grin over his shoulder when he walked in. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” Lance shuffled over to the corner of the counter top and pulled himself up onto it. It was quiet for a minute as Keith watched the sandwich on the stove, comfortable with the soft sizzling in the background. “I uh, didn’t think you’d still be here,” Lance said, and he was, honestly, surprised to find Keith’s car still parked in the driveway when he’d come home. He had expected Keith would have left when he woke up. He had no obligation to stay for hours alone in a house that wasn’t his, but he did, anyway, for Lance. Lance didn’t understand it.

Keith’s brows furrowed as he turned to him. “Not that it’s a bad thing!” Lance was quick to add, and Keith’s features smoothed, and his eyes were fond. “I mean, I’m happy you’re here and all, I just didn’t expect it, y’know?”

Keith hummed, scooping the sandwich onto a plate where another was already waiting and turned off the stove. “I didn’t want you to come home to an empty house,” was all he said. He reached the plate out to Lance. “Here, I thought you might want something to eat when you came home.” Lance took it gently. “I uh,” Keith’s face grew red, and he looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know how to cook much so, I’m sorry if it’s not, uh, the greatest after-work snack you’ve ever had.”

Lance stifled a laugh with a bite of his grilled cheese. He offered the plate back to Keith. “Do you want the other one?” Keith crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the cabinets next to wear Lance was on the counter.

“No,” he replied, “I’m lactose intolerant, I don’t eat cheese much.”

Lance’s eyes widened and he did _not_ choke on his bite of grilled cheese, he didn’t. “Oh my god.” Lance stared at Keith, and Keith was obviously fighting back a chuckle and Lance’s inside turned. “Oh my god,” he started again. “You’re lactose intolerant and I made you a dairy filled sandwich when you were sick and you _ate it_ oh my god I knew and I forgot and I probably made it so much worse what the _fuck_ -”

“Lance.” Keith was watching him with what Lance would call a _fond_ smile when he looked up, and his heart stuttered. He took the plate out of Lances hands and then took one of Lance’s hands in his own. “I ate it because it was nice that you were taking care of me, and I had pills that help with it.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of Lance’s knuckles and then released his hand. Lance stared down at his hand where he could still feel the ghost of his touch. “I don’t have my pills right now,” Keith continued, “but thank you for the offer.”

It was quiet as Lance finished his sandwich. The clock in the living room was ticking, and kosmo was panting softly, lying at their feet on the kitchen tiles. It was nice. Calm. Serene, and Lance couldn’t help the quirk of his lips as he held the last bite out to kosmo, who licked his chops and wagged his tail before gently taking it from his fingers. “This is why he likes you more,” Keith said. He grabbed the pan from the stove and set it in the sink.

“I’ll do them.” Lance pushed himself off the counter, careful not to step on kosmo, and pushed Keith away from the sink, who was already soaping up a washcloth to do the dishes with. “I said _I’ll_ do them Keith. Stop it, go, sit.” Beside him, Kosmo, who had stood to nudge at their legs, sat. Keith let out a laugh then, soft and genuine and Lance’s chest was on fire. Lance bodily shoved him out of the way to distract himself.

Keith huffed at the blow to his ribs and stumbled, but he grinned at Lance as he caved and leaned his hip against the counter. “Alright, alright. Fine, you win, do your nasty dishes.” Lance flicked water at him and Keith laughed as he shielded his face.

Neither of them spoke as Lance worked on the small pile of dishes, and he found that he wasn’t uncomfortable. A quiet house normally unnerved Lance. He didn’t like silence, it allowed him too much time to think, and his brain was very good at making him miserable. So Lance didn’t like it quiet.

But with Keith, knowing he was there with him, it was okay. The short breaks in conversation were nice. He trusted that Keith wouldn’t let him get too far into his head. He always knew when enough was enough, when Lance needed space, when he needed _less_ space. He wasn’t the best with words one the spot, but his comforting hand was enough for Lance. For now.

Lance was terrified of the day it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want things to get so bad that Keith couldn’t help him anymore, when he would start bottling up again because Keith didn’t need Lance as a burden. Especially when school was in, but even now, Lance could feel it gnawing at the back of his mind, how he had pulled Keith away from his house and his brother, at nine at night, and even though Keith had told him he didn’t mind Lance knew it was inconvenient for him.

He hadn’t had a bad day today. He woke up next to his best friend and his dog, everything had gone smoothly at work save for the bird incident which was funny, and he came home to his best friend still at his house, cooking for him. Lance’s day had actually been _good_ , but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t last, that he didn’t deserve it. It settled in his bones and ached in his chest. It was the kind of hurt that made it hard for him to act normal, and that just made him feel worse. He was exhausted, all the time, and he just wanted to sleep. Guilt was the only thing that kept him going to work. Guilt of his boss having to replace him, guilt of not bringing in an income to help his parents pay for his college, guilt of not being useful. He took extra shifts because his days off were hours and hours of staring at the ceiling in his bed because he couldn’t force himself to get up.

He was useless, expendable, a terrible friend, a burden, lazy, dirty-

Lance felt arms wrap around him from behind and he startled. “Sorry.” Keith’s voice was muffled from where his face was pressed to the back of Lance’s neck. “You stopped washing,” he said, and Lance found that he had, indeed, stopped, a pan in one hand and the washcloth in the other.

He took a deep, steadying breath as he leaned back into Keith’s warmth. His arms tightened around him and he moved to rest his chin on the top of Lance’s head. “Thank you.” He finished washing quickly after that, but even after he turned the tap off and dried his hands, neither of them moved.

Keith began to sway them back and forth gently. Lance covered Keith’s hands at his waist with his own, slid his fingers in between Keith’s, and took another deep breath. “Thank you,” Lance said again, and Keith only hummed, rocking them where they stood in front of the sink. Lance could hear the rhythmic thumping of Kosmo’s tail on the floor next to them, clearly amused.

After another minute of silent rocking, Keith finally stepped back from him, his hands ghosting Lance’s back so as not to completely break contact. “Let’s go sit down.” Lance nodded, and Keith took his hand and lead him to the living room. Kosmo was right on their heels.

Keith pulled Lance down onto the couch, arms wrapping him up tightly against his chest, and Kosmo hopped up to lay over their legs. Keith’s hand carded through Lance’s hair. Lance’s eyes began to water, the gesture tumbling his emotions in his chest, and he sniffed so as not to start crying. “You’re enough,” Keith whispered to him, “you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent-”

“Keith,” Lance said, but Keith didn’t stop.

“You’re so kind, and caring, and selfless. You’re hard-working, more than anyone I know.”

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance sobbed. He buried his face into Keith’s shoulder, his hand gripping the front of Keith’s shirt, and he cried.

Keith’s voice broke when he kept going. “You’re so bright, and lovable, and- and you’re so, so special, Lance.” He pulled him tighter to himself, rubbed his back. “You’re so special, even if you don’t feel like it. I want you to see how special you are to us. How special you are to _me_.” Some of Keith’s own tears dripped down into Lance’s hair. He sucked in a shaking breath. “I want to help you see how special you are, Lance.”

He didn’t say any more after that, just let Lance cry into his shoulder as he held him. Lance cried and cried, so many emotions pent up that he just couldn’t stop, and he was sure he looked and sounded disgusting, sobbing and sniffling, but Keith only held him tighter when he tried to move away.

By the time Lance’s crying slowed, he was exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open. He was so, so tired, but he had to know, had to ask. “Keith?” His voice was quiet and muffled by Keith’s chest. The circles Keith was tracing on his back paused, but quickly resumed when Lance didn’t move.

“Not now,” Keith said, and Lance wasn’t as bothered with the dismissal like he would have been any other time. He was just so tired. “Take a nap. We’ll talk when you wake up, okay? I promise.” Lance nodded against him, his eyes already falling closed, tired and red and puffy.

He fell asleep quickly, Keith’s arms around him and Kosmo curled up protectively at their feet.


End file.
